Moon Festival mountain top.
After Meng Zhengjun flicked his sleeves, snorted and walked away.
Zhao Rong, along with Gu Yiwu and other students from the Hall of Justice, Xue Chan and other eight Crescent Moon Ladies, and officials from the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Works, came to the edge of the cliff.
The young Confucian scholar glanced at Meng Xuezhen's back.
In fact, he really wasn't looking for trouble on purpose, touching her whiskers fearlessly, but he really had something to say.
But.
Anyway, in Meng Zhengjun's mind, he should be another rising cancer in Mo Chi Academy after Fan Yushu.
As for his image, well, he is very fond of living off women, so now it doesn't seem to be a big deal if he also has the impression of being frivolous and disrespectful to teachers.
At this moment, Zhao Rong shook his head and glared at Gu Yiwu and other students from the Hall of Justice, because the latter looked at him with more respect, as if they were looking at a spiritual leader who was fighting against oppression...
Zhao Rong was quite helpless. He glanced at the sun and pointed at his feet:
"Tomorrow, after the young emperor has finished offering sacrifices at the Earth Altar in Dongshan, he will ride a red carriage with a white horse and go from east to west up Jiyue Mountain. It will be around this time... at one quarter past noon, he will arrive at the top of Jiyue Mountain and get off the carriage. When he reaches here, we will change him into a yellow and black robe."
One quarter after noon, which is a quarter after eleven in the morning.
As for Huang Shouxuanyi.
Shou is the name of a crown, which means to let the little emperor Li Wangque wear a yellow crown and a black formal dress.
Zhao Rong stretched out his hand, pointed at the Temple of Heaven which was about to be completed not far away, and said carefully:
"Your Majesty needs to change into formal attire to seal the heaven in the Temple of Heaven and to thank the heaven for your merits. Dali belongs to the virtue of water and is black in color. The Book of Rites says that the emperor's crown and robes are black. Black is black with a hint of red, and is suitable for leaving the court to offer sacrifices to heaven..."
The young Confucian scholar's speech, citing classics, also had his own understanding of etiquette, and made appropriate improvements with good reasoning.
Everyone was convinced and nodded repeatedly.
In the distance, a prim and proper female teacher who seemed to be gazing at the scenery also glanced at the slender silhouette of the young scholar at one point.
On the edge of the cliff, Zhao Rong then reminded him again about the details and rules for building the Temple of Heaven, which were actually not much different from the Temple of Ditan. Gu Yiwu replied with a smile, saying that he was doing exactly what he had instructed before.
After a while, Zhao Rong felt relieved, but the next thing to talk about was the most important part of this Temple of Heaven sacrifice.
It is also the finale of this Fengshan ceremony.
That is to use a method that can be understood by the Heavenly Dao to convey information, report Dali's merits to Heaven.
What form does this 'great gift' take?
As mentioned before next to the Ditan Temple, it cannot be that only Zhao Rong, the host, holds the edict in his hand and reads it loudly.
Because he was reading it to the people around him, and who knows whether God could hear it.
At this time, Zhao Rong's face was slightly solemn: "Xuechan Fengyi, have those cultivators I asked you to find come together?"
Xuechan twisted a bunch of hair on her shoulder, looked at Zhao Rong, and nodded:
"According to the instructions given to me by Mr. Zhao a few days ago, I sent people to several immortals' homes in Dali Territory that day and invited nine monks who are good at engraving on cliff walls. At this moment, we are resting in a summer resort halfway up the mountain, waiting for Mr. Zhao's instructions."
At the highest and steepest cliff in Dali, Zhao Rong stamped his right foot on the ground and pointed his index finger downwards. "Carve an inscription of merit on this cliff for me. It has 208 characters in total. It must be completed before 4:45 am tomorrow morning."
Four quarters of the Mao time is six in the morning, and the planned Fengshan ceremony was scheduled to begin at six quarters of the Mao time.
He took out a manuscript from his sleeve and handed it to Xuechan.
The latter flipped it open, glanced at it, and nodded in understanding, "No problem. If it's more than 200 words, you can engrave it before three o'clock tonight without stopping."
She thought for a moment and then asked, "Mr. Zhao, are there any requirements for this inscription?"
Zhao Rong exhaled slightly, glanced at the high cliff next to him, and shook his head:
"Just carve it according to my handwriting. There are some sizes on it, just follow them... There must be no mistakes. Also, apply gold powder. The more conspicuous and spectacular, the better... This is for God to see. Well, I hope God will see it..."
As he spoke, he smiled.
Xuechan nodded and said, "Of course." Then she left temporarily to arrange the inscription.
"Tzuyu, that's brilliant. Using cliff carving as a 'gift' to thank the heavens for their contributions."
Gu Yiwu folded his hands, touched his chin, and nodded seriously.
The students around also agreed.
"..." Zhao Rong looked at a group of classmates who were just slacking off and had no idea what to do, and the corners of his mouth twitched twice.
What's so wonderful about this? This young master really can't think of anything else. Just like the book of burying jade and silk under the Ditan Park, I can only use this simple and easy-to-understand method, and God must have eyes to see it...
On the edge of the cliff, a group of people looked just like the candidates chatting in the corridor before the exam, but now they were all sharing the same fate.
The burly scholar seemed to have seen what his friend was thinking. He patted him on the shoulder and shook his head solemnly:
"Tzuyu, we didn't give you any blind advice in order not to interfere with your judgment. We want you to stay rational and think independently."
His tone was earnest and the students around him nodded quickly.
“Yes, yes”, “Believe in Tzuyu, tomorrow’s ceremony will surely bring auspicious signs”, “I told you Tzuyu can do it”…
There was a chorus of praise.
At this moment, Zhao Rong really wanted to nod and say, "I don't mind you influencing my judgment at all. Just come up with a better plan." However, Meng Xuezhen was not far away at this moment. With her cultivation level, she must be able to hear it clearly.
As the leader, he cannot show any sign of weakness.
"Thank you so much, everyone...ah." Zhao Rong had no choice but to nod and sigh.
Just thinking of Meng Zhengjun, the young scholar subconsciously glanced there and happened to see the serious and old-fashioned woman looking away from them.
In his field of vision, Meng Zhengjun seemed to look at the scenery below the mountain, chuckled and nodded.
Zhao Rong frowned slightly.
No? The "ritual" engraved on this cliff doesn't fit the Fengshan ceremony?
It’s a pity that no one answered these questions that suddenly popped up in his heart.
In the distance, Meng Zhengjun regained her calm and composed expression. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking or whether she was laughing at someone just now.
Zhao Rong soon relaxed his brows, smiled, and after saying a few humble words to his classmates and friends including Gu Yiwu, he took them to check the Temple of Heaven not far away.
The Temple of Heaven was built not far from the lightning-struck tree in the center of the mountain top. It was being built by hundreds of skilled craftsmen from Dali, and there was a constant stream of soldiers coming and going, carrying soil and stones up the mountain.
Zhao Rong and others circled the Temple of Heaven several times. During the process, Zhao Rong corrected some deviations. Then, seeing that there were no obvious problems, he put his hands behind his back and led everyone to stand aside quietly to supervise and observe.
During this time, Zhao Rong occasionally glanced at the cliff where the words were about to be inscribed.
Just as he turned around again, took a look at the Temple of Heaven built by the craftsmen in an orderly manner, and was thinking about taking everyone down the mountain.
A shouting sound came from the top of Jiyue Mountain.
"Today's mighty thunder is coming! Everyone, retreat from the top of the mountain, away from Lei Gui and Yue Tan! Retreat to within a hundred feet of the top of the mountain."
The old-fashioned lady who had been holding her hands and looking at the scenery seemed to have heard something. She suddenly looked up, and the fingers under her wide gray sleeves suddenly calculated for a moment. At this time, she whistled a warning.
"It will arrive at 3:30 pm, and there will be a hundred breaths left."
The atmosphere on the top of the mountain was quiet for a moment, and the sky was clear, like the calm before a storm.
The next moment, everyone cheered and some craftsmen did not even have time to drop the objects in their hands and ran away from the top of the mountain.
Although the situation was urgent, everyone retreated in an orderly manner without any panic and looked quite skilled.
They should have avoided the thunder on the top of the mountain every day and kept an eye on the changes in the weather, but today there was a powerful academy teacher present who gave an earlier warning.
"Tzuyu, hurry up, it's the thunder on the top of Jiyue Mountain. It has a fixed time every day, around noon, but it seems to be a quarter early today."
Gu Yiwu called out to Zhao Rongdao.
The young scholar was slightly startled, nodded, and followed everyone to evacuate the top of the mountain.
Before leaving, he turned his head to look at the tall, dead tree standing alone in the center of the mountain top.
It was charred all over and full of tree holes.
Leigui? It turned out to be a cassia tree... Zhao Rong thought to himself and took a few more glances.
Soon, everyone retreated to a position a hundred feet above the top of the mountain.
After a dozen breaths, the sky above suddenly began to darken, and soon it was covered with dark clouds, lightning and thunder.
A terrifying force was brewing in the dark clouds.
Zhao Rong stood at the front of the crowd.
He rolled up his sleeves, raised his head and stared at the thunderclouds without blinking.
Seems to be expecting something.
"Tzuyu, although this thunder is extremely fierce and more powerful than the usual thunder we have seen, it is not too dangerous. We retreated a little too far, but it is okay to be on the safe side."
Gu Yiwu, who was standing next to Zhao Rong, glanced at Meng Xuezhen who was standing in the front and whispered to him.
"What do you mean?"
Zhao Rong looked up without blinking, but couldn't help asking.
The burly scholar pursed his lips:
"Hey, there is the lightning-struck tree. I don't know how long this ancient tree has existed or who planted it. Anyway, at this time every day at the top of Jiyue Mountain, there will be a thunder of great force descending."
"And this lightning-struck wood, which seems to be the original form of the osmanthus tree, is like a magnet, attracting lightning and catching most of the powerful lightning every day..."
Gu Yiwu was explaining when suddenly a strong wind blew.
In an instant, there was a loud thunder in the ears of Zhao Rong, Gu Yiwu and everyone else, leaving them no time to cover their ears.
Boom——!
Following the first thunder, lightning began to fall in an instant, all aiming directly at the lightning-struck tree in the center of the mountain top. The sound of each lightning bolt became louder than the last, deafening.
And the frequency of this thunder is as if it is free of charge, and it comes in an endless stream!
The ears of the people who were avoiding the thunder were almost shaken off, and later they had constant tinnitus.
Zhao Rong looked at the twisted lightning snakes in front of him that connected the thunderstorm and the thunder laurel on the top of the mountain, and couldn't help but take a slight breath.
The scene was truly spectacular.
Most people around them subconsciously shrank their heads, probably because they were afraid that if a bolt of lightning came down, it would hit them on the head...
However, a certain young scholar did nod quietly.
Somewhat satisfied.
"Hey, what a thunder..."
From Zhao Rong's heart, the lazy voice of a sword spirit was heard, but it was quickly suppressed by the sound of thunder.
"…You woke me up."
Gui muttered something, then said happily:
"Zhao Rong, choose this mountaintop to refine the sword pill. I just caught a glimpse of some interesting 'little guys' hidden in the thunder. They are already in the realm of heavenly thunder..."
"Um."
Zhao Rong just responded and no longer had time to talk to it. He looked carefully at the top of the mountain above.
He found that what Brother Yiwu said was correct. Although the thunder on the top of the mountain was extremely powerful, being on the top of the mountain was like being in a pool of thunder.
but.
Most of the area on the top of the mountain seemed safe.
Because almost ninety-nine percent of the lightning struck the ancient osmanthus tree.
In the dense thunderclouds in the sky, lightning was falling from all directions, and at this moment it was connecting to the lonely charred dead tree below. This scene was like a lush thunder tree, standing between heaven and earth, connecting the top of Jiyue Mountain and the dark clouds in the sky.
The root of this "Heavenly Thunder Tree" is thunder laurel, and its branches are made of lightning, tall and majestic.
In this way, most locations on the top of the mountain are relatively safe.
It is nice to take shelter under a big tree, and I am protected by the "remaining shade" of the ancient osmanthus tree.
It was just that every ten or so breaths, there would occasionally be one or two bolts of lightning leaking down, landing somewhere randomly on the top of the mountain, either shattering the bluestone or exploding the lake water...
Zhao Rong narrowed his eyes and silently observed the scene before him.
At a certain moment, his eyes fell on the deep tree hole of the lightning-struck tree...
Later, he noticed that this thunderwood tree was growing near the shore, with half of its roots submerged in the blue water of the Moon Lake.
Although it is unknown whether the charred and withered creature is still alive and absorbing the water from the Moon Lake, it is now bearing the heavy lightning, and some of the lightning seems to be absorbed and eliminated by the blue lake water.
So it's not just this Lei Gui that acts as a lightning rod, attracting thunder.
This Moon Lake seems to be a thunder pool that absorbs lightning?
Zhao Rong thought to himself...
After about one hundred and twenty breaths, the sound of thunder gradually faded, and then quickly disappeared within three short breaths.
The thick thunderclouds above everyone's heads dissipated, and no heavy rain fell during the entire process, which was quite a spectacle.
As the clouds dispersed and the sun rose, Zhao Rong and others felt that the heaven and earth were in harmony, as if the sky had cleared after the rain, and it was extremely clear.
Everyone returned to the top of the mountain, and the officials from the Ministry of Rites and the craftsmen continued to perform their duties.
Meng Zhengjun turned around and prepared to leave.
However, a young scholar was quicker than her.
"Mr. Meng, please stay."
Zhao Rong suddenly shouted with a bright smile.
After his voice sounded, Meng Zhengjun took a few more steps, but finally stopped and said without turning his head:
"If you have something to say, please tell me now."
Zhao Rong coughed and nodded, "Mr. Jian seems to have some magical powers. Can you help us students who are taking the exam calculate when the thunder on the mountaintop will start tomorrow?"
He paused, nodded seriously and said, "Well, Mr. Meng, this shouldn't be considered cheating. I believe your magical powers should be able to calculate it."
As soon as she finished speaking, the eyes of students like Zhao Rong and Gu Yiwu were immediately focused on the back of the old-fashioned woman in Confucian robe.
Zhao Rong guessed that Meng Xuezhen would most likely find an excuse to shirk his responsibility and not help them calculate the moment when the mighty thunder would strike the top of the mountain tomorrow, leaving them at risk of being delayed in the assessment.
However, what he and the students around him did not expect was that Meng Zhengjun, who was not far away, nodded without even thinking, with a smile on his face, and counted with his fingers.
"Around ten breaths after 2:30 p.m. tomorrow, the thunder will arrive on time. This will be the strongest thunder in the past two months."
She spoke directly and in great detail without hiding anything, then turned her head and looked at Zhao Rong calmly, smiling and saying, "Be careful to avoid it, and don't delay the Fengshan test."
When this old-fashioned lady from the academy smiled, the wrinkles on her face became deeper.
Then, she shook her sleeves and left the top of the mountain. Her steps seemed quite leisurely...
Gu Yiwu and other students from the Justice Hall were slightly surprised to hear the old woman's kind concern and looked at each other.
Zhao Rong clenched his fists slightly.
After a moment, the head turned suddenly.
His eyes fell on the cliff where the inscription would be engraved.
Did Meng Zhengjun think that the Fengshan rituals he had set were doomed to fail?
Or could she find a legitimate reason to give him a zero? Was she deciding to nitpick and forcibly deduct points, or was it that...his etiquette was really not good enough?
The young scholar couldn't help but frown...